The Motel
by TalonStrike09
Summary: The hotel has run out of rooms. An irritated Morgan and Reid are unfortunately sent to stay at the motel down the road. In no way will this end well.


**A/N: I don't even know. This just came out of nowhere. Well...I guess not really. **

**This takes place in Season Five. Like a number of other watchers and fans of the show, I found it interesting and funny that Morgan would protest to sharing a room with Reid without any previously explained reason. So I have taken it upon myself to present you with what I believe occurred.**

**Which I realize is 100% ridiculous. Oh well. Enjoy! **

**Warning: Not too sure to be honest. **

**Disclaimer: No rights over the characters but full rights over the ridiculousness that is this story. **

* * *

The Motel

* * *

The day had been long and the case hard.

An average day for a certain BAU team; something that was so old it wasn't even remotely funny. Now the group of six stood clustered in the brightly lit lobby of a Hampton Inn in the midst of a small, North Carolina town. Rossi had set his bags on the ground, watching as Hotch spoke with the woman working at the front counter. For going to retrieve the keys to their rooms it was taking an awfully long time.

"You look tired Jayje," Reid commented, looking at the blonde woman beside him. She raised her eyebrows half-exasperated at him.

"And you're not?"

"Oddly enough, no. As disgusting as that coffee in the station was, it certainly did its job keeping me awake and alert."

A hand slapped the back of his head.

"Ow!" Reid turned, affronted. "Morgan!"

The older agent grinned at him. "How alert are you if you couldn't see that coming?"

"That doesn't count! I wasn't looking!" Reid swung his head towards in the opposite direction. "Jayje!"

JJ back away some. "I'm not getting involved in this. It's late and I just want to hit the bed."

"But—"

Prentiss chuckled. "Looks like you're on your own, Reid."

Reid spun around to face his last hope. "Rossi—"

"No."

Hotch walked back to the group. His grim look and irritated eyes immediately quelled all banter within the team.

Morgan curiously eyed him. "Hotch? What's wrong, man?"

"They only have two rooms available. We'll have to double-up," Hotch replied.

"But that leaves two of us without a place to sleep," JJ frowned. "Should we look somewhere else?"

"There are no other hotels," Prentiss sighed. "We could try and crowd three of us per room."

None of them looked pleased at the idea.

"There's a motel about a mile down the road," Rossi suggested. "It wasn't the ideal image of comfort but it's a place with beds."

Hotch looked at him, eyebrows raised in surprise. "Are you offering to stay there?"

"No. I have a bad back," Rossi replied. His eyes shifted to the rest of the group. "I was thinking a couple of the kids could."

Reid frowned. "We're not kids," he protested.

"You wouldn't send two beautiful ladies on their own to a dinky motel would you?" Prentiss asked.

"No." Morgan made an 'X' with his arms. "Not gonna happen. You're not sending Reid and me down there."

"Or at least send Morgan there with someone else," Reid suggested, none too kindly.

Morgan glared at him and then turned to Hotch. "Here's an idea: make Reid go by himself."

Hotch held up his hands as a new round of protests sprung from Morgan's words. Suddenly all of his agents, including Rossi, were giving excuses for why they _had _to sleep in the hotel.

"I'm a mother."

"JJ needs the company of another woman."

"My boots and strange motels don't mix. Also I'd like to point out—seniority."

"What are you bragging about your age for, Rossi?"

"No excuses from you, Morgan?"

"Sure. I don't want to stay in a motel."

"I need ice chips! Without them my brain melts!" Reid suddenly blurted.

The arguing came to a stop. Everyone stared at the genius in varying ranges of disbelief.

"Wow Reid," Hotch said after another moment. "For that excuse _alone_, you're going to the motel."

Reid whined and visibly deflated.

Hotch's gaze swung to Morgan. "You can go with him."

Morgan stared at him. "I'm okay here."

"That wasn't a suggestion."

Morgan and Reid exchanged short looks, not even bothering to hide their glowers.

"Great."

"Awesome."

Sarcasm at its finest.

The rest of the team glanced at one another in confusion. For a while now the pair had been uncomfortably on edge in the presence of the other, specifically when the time came for the team to rest in close quarters. They didn't know when it started or what the cause even was. All they knew was that one day Morgan and Reid were playing a game of cards in the back of the jet, laughing and joking like the best of buddies, and the next—after a grueling case and night in a local hotel—they were staying as far away from each other as possible.

Hotch couldn't figure it out. But it didn't take an expert profiler to see clear as day the agitation building between the two whenever the issue of who was rooming with who was brought up. For a moment he thought about maybe going to the motel with one of them himself. The idea came and went. He straightened his shoulders. No. Morgan and Reid were old enough to handle any issues between them. Whatever was going on needed to be dealt with, no avoided. He couldn't risk a rift in the team.

"Well," Hotch said, looking at the both of them. "Rossi will text you the directions, though it shouldn't be too hard to find. I want us to meet here in the lobby tomorrow morning by eight. The jet will be ready to go at nine."

"Breakfast first?" Prentiss questioned, looking hopeful.

Hotch's stern expression slipped some. "…Yes. If everyone's here on time."

Despite the bickering between the team just moments ago, all their faces lit up in approval.

Rossi clapped a friendly hand on his shoulder. "You done good, Aaron. You done good."

No one wanted to fly through turbulence on an empty stomach, and just about all of them grew visibly grouchy from the lack of substenance after a case. Seemingly placated by the thought of food, Morgan gathered go-bag from the floor and finally turned to leave.

"I'm not driving back if you get left behind," he called over his shoulder to Reid.

The small smile on Reid's face vanished, replaced by a horrendous scowl and narrowed eyes. He quickly walked away from the rest of the team to catch up with Morgan without so much a single goodbye to everyone else.

JJ gazed after him, bewildered. She turned her searching gaze onto her colleagues. "What is going _on _with them?"

Rossi shrugged. "Nothing we should be too worried about, I'm sure."

"Do you think they'll be okay?" Prentiss asked.

Hotch turned away. "They'll be fine," he said, one-hundred percent uncertain.

* * *

A two minute drive down the road became a ten minute debacle because Morgan refused to look at the directions Rossi sent even at Reid's loud and constant insistence.

"Just look at the stupid text Morgan!"

"It's dangerous to text and drive, _Dr. _Reid! You of all people should know that!"

"That's never stopped you befo—you just passed the motel! Turn around!"

"No I didn't!"

"Quit screwing around!"

So after passing by the motel three times—just to infuriate Reid further of course—Morgan finally pulled into the crowded lot and wedged their issued SUV between a truck and punch buggy.

Reid was the first one out the vehicle, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm his frazzled nerves down. Sometimes Morgan really… He shook his head and checked out the L-shaped motel. Even in the dark it wasn't hard to miss how run-down the establishment was. Broken shingles, chipped paint, and a large neon sign beside the double-door entrance flashing at odd intervals.

"MOTEL," Reid read aloud. "Not very creative are they?" Half the letters were flickeringly so dimly that 'MOTEL' actually looked like 'ME'.

Morgan grabbed his own bag and shut the door, trying not to roll his eyes. "Then why don't you give them a few suggestions? I've got a couple for you myself," he added under his breath. Reid heard him loud and clear.

"Oh really?" he challenged.

"Yeah." Morgan tilted his head to look Reid in the eye. "It's called 'shut up because it's late and I'm tired and you don't own this place so why do you even care what it's called?'."

Reid made a face, scoffing. "Good one," he sarcastically replied. "I've got a suggestion for you too, called— Hey!"

Morgan was already walking away.

Reid hurried after him, not wanting to get left behind. "You're a jerk, you know?" he huffed.

Despite his annoyance, Morgan couldn't help but grin a little. He playfully tousled the younger agent's hair once he drew close enough and even let him enter the motel first. It was just as they expected—dark lighting, vintage lamps, and a hideously patterned carpet everywhere the floor reached. An unlit fireplace was built into the back wall. There was a long wooden counter off the side where a scrawny man with a pencil moustache clicked away on a bulky computer.

Morgan wasted no time in striding towards the counter to get them a room.

Reid frowned while his friend did that, taking in their surroundings with a bit more apprehension. There were a lot of paintings of frowning clowns. Why were there so many paintings of frowning clowns? He hesitantly walked the small perimeter of the lobby, pausing to stare at a mound of dust growing on the mantle of the fireplace.

Reid stood and watched as the pile grew visibly taller. Maybe staying at this motel wasn't so good of an idea… The SUV was a safer, far less creepier place. He could hear Morgan and the man at the counter talking in the background.

"Give us a room," Morgan flatly said.

"We're pretty crowded tonight," the man was saying. "Not sure we've got room for you and your er—buddy."

"We're FBI."

"Yeah—that's what they all say."

Morgan flashed his badge—and a little of his gun.

The man coughed, stooping beneath the counter to fetch a brass key. "You know, I think we do have a room or two open…"

"Great." Morgan snatched the key from the man's hand none too kindly. Reid hesitantly followed his friend down the hall, noticing how disgruntled the man at the counter looked.

"I think he might try and kill us in our sleep," he said.

"Let him. I've got some bullets left."

Their room was near the end of a dim narrow hall. There was a myriad of strange noises coming from the rooms they passed—noises that made Reid walk quicker and closer to Morgan. Morgan looked like he absolutely didn't care for anything but bed. While Reid grimaced at the chipped paint on their door and dented metal of the room number '13' bolted above the peephole, Morgan merely shoved the brass key in the old fashioned lock and pushed the door open.

He flicked on the lights and both he and Reid immediately noted the yellow thermostat beneath the light switch.

Two beds were pushed against the right wall; in between them was a dresser with a lamp and dented alarm clock that was behind by three hours. The left wall was where a tiny bathroom was, and a large, hideous painting of a frowning clown holding balloons while watching children play in the rain. The back wall was the air conditioner and a fairly big window without a screen.

Reid grimaced at the painting of the clown. "This place really needs to invest in new art," he muttered.

Morgan threw his bags on the bed closest to the door. "Alright kid, I admit that is a little freaky."

"A little? It's creepy as hell!" Reid exclaimed, taking the bed by the window. He always took the bed by the window. "I call first on showering."

"I call first on I-don't-care," Morgan said, unimpressed.

Reid scoffed at him a bit. "Ha ha." After gathering several items from his bag, he vanished into the bathroom to take a shower.

Morgan waited a couple of minutes before getting up and heading to the thermostat. Jeez! 75 degrees? Morgan turned the air on and set it to 60. There was no way he'd be able to sleep if it was so hot. He settled back on his bed and plugged his headphones in, listening to music until his friend came out the bathroom. He didn't have to wait long.

Reid stepped from the bathroom ten minutes later, a towel around his scrawny waist, dripping water everywhere. His eyes narrowed as he was hit with a sudden chill. Goosebumps prickled all along his chest. "Did it get colder in here?" he asked.

Morgan shrugged, getting up so he could shower of his own. "You just got out the shower. It's always cold."

Reid didn't look convinced but went to his bed without another word, rummaging through his bag for clothes.

As he did so, Morgan stepped into the bathroom. His foot splashed into a puddle of water. Typical. He frowned and looked over his shoulder. "Come on, man. Don't you ever clean up after yourself?"

"It's just a little water—what are you complaining about?" Reid retorted. "And did you really think I wouldn't notice that the _air _is on?"

Morgan ignored him, shutting the bathroom door. "Ugh! Reid, this bathroom's a mess!" his muffled voice shouted.

Reid smiled to himself, pulling a t-shirt over his head. Truthfully he hated messy bathrooms too, but he knew, he just _knew_, Morgan would mess with the thermostat and make it much colder than necessary. Every time they shared a room Reid would suffer through the night shivering and unable to fall asleep. Well he wasn't going to be the only one who had it rough.

* * *

The clock on the dresser read 8:00 PM by the time Morgan finally left the shower and tossed himself into his bed sheets.

"That time is gonna mess me up," he mumbled, pulling out his phone. "I'll set an alarm."

"Me too," Reid said, getting his own phone from where he stashed it beneath his pillow.

Morgan stopped him. "No. Your alarm is honest-to-god terrifying."

"No it's not."

"I'm serious Reid."

"Your alarm isn't much better," Reid mumbled.

"It is. It's much better," Morgan deadpanned.

So with an alarm set for 7:00 AM, Morgan slouched down in bed ready to catch some much needed sleep. He reached out and turned off the lamp in between them. Darkness fell like a thick blanket over the pair. Morgan felt his nerves start to settle. His eyes grew heavy. Finally…

The lamp turned back on.

Morgan's eyes popped open. "Reid!"

Reid withdrew his hand from the lamp. "What? I don't like the dark."

"I can't sleep with a light on, you know that!"

"I can't sleep with a light off, _you _know that!"

Morgan groaned loudly in exasperation. "This is why I hate rooming with you!"

Reid angrily scoffed. "The feeling's mutual. You're the worst!"

"Coming from the kid who still sleeps with a night light."

"At least I don't snore like a _dying bear_!"

"I don't _snore_, Reid!"

"You do too! I recorded you at night once!"

Morgan tried not to scream in frustration. All he wanted was some rest. That's all he wanted! "Fine, okay!" he threw his arms into the air. "Keep the lamp on. But as soon as you fall asleep I'm turning it off, _got it?_"

"Fine," Reid didn't bother to hide his triumphant smile. Morgan contemplated gouging the younger man's eyes out.

Eventually they both settled down.

Morgan pressed his face into his pillow, trying to calm himself. He breathed deeply, in and out and in out and in and out… The minutes drifted by. He didn't let himself fall into the throws of sleep just yet, though, wanting to make sure he'd be able to shut the lamp off once Reid passed out.

Two hours agonizingly passed.

Morgan spent the time fading in and out of scattered dreams. Finally, when he was _certain_ Reid would be asleep, he allowed himself to groggily open his eyes and turn his head to see how deep in sleep Reid was.

He balked, choking on his spit.

Reid was lying on his back, staring wide-eyed up at the ceiling, completely awake.

Morgan pushed onto his elbows. "Come on, Reid, it's one in the morning!" he agitatedly yelled.

Reid's frowned, turning his own head to look at the irritated, older man. "So? It's still dark out!"

Morgan's stare was beyond disbelieving. "There's no way the dark scares you so much you can't sleep. I've seen you sleep before on the jet."

"Have you even seen the light _off _in the jet?" Reid testily retorted.

"You're overreacting and being stupidly annoying! Turn off the light already!"

"No! You can't tell me this place _doesn't _freak you out!"

"It doesn't, Reid, and I don't get why you can't just shut your eyes and go to bed!"

"Because there's a very high probability of us getting murdered here! Our door doesn't even lock right and the window doesn't have a screen! Anybody can get in! Not to mention those paintings with the clowns—"

"_Again with the clowns_?"

"They're inhuman-looking and I don't want to be here anymore!" Reid complained, his voice nearing a whine.

"Then sleep outside!" Morgan shouted.

Someone pounded on the wall behind them. "Hey! Shut the hell up in there!"

"You shut your own face!" Morgan hollered back. He flipped onto his side, grinding his teeth hard enough to sand half of them down.

Feeling kind of bad now, Reid swallowed his fears and hesitantly turned off the lamp. Morgan was lucky he valued their friendship so much, Reid sourly thought. He watched Morgan's form visibly relax. A mixed silence filled the room for a couple of moments. Then Morgan spoke.

"Hey kid…thanks."

Reid smiled a bit. "Yeah, yeah. Go to sleep." He remained awake for a while longer, trying not to let his eyes stray to the horrid painting of the clown or let his mind trick him into thinking every shadow was going to leap out and drag him into a dismal abyss.

He was glad this place had a digital alarm clock—the only good thing about the motel. Hearing the clock hands go tick, tick, tick in endless circles would've driven him mad. He took a small comfort in this—which wasn't all too much compared to his overwhelming fear—but steeled his willpower and ordered his brain to stop acting illogical. Although…it wasn't all too illogical of him to assume someone had definitely been killed in this motel before, right? It definitely wasn't. Maybe a bunch of clowns were murdered here. That had to be why there were so many freaking paintings of them around! They were a homage of sorts.

A twisted, twisted homage, Reid grimly thought.

He wriggled into his sheets, pulling them over his shoulders.

* * *

Four hours went by.

Reid was nowhere near sleep. It was impossible to _be _near sleep.

"UAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCHHH….. _UAAAAAAAAAACCCCHHHH_…."

"Are you serious?" Reid angrily hissed to himself. "_Are you serious?_"

Morgan was sleeping peacefully. So peacefully that his mouth was wide open and emitting sounds worthy of a raging bear and dinosaur combined.

Reid tried to control his temper, he really did. His fingers were stark white from how hard he gripped the sheets around him.

Just calm down….he told himself.

Calm down.

_Calm down. _

Take a deep breath and—

"UUUUUAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCCCCCCCCHHHHH…."

Reid rolled over, eyes blazing. "_God_ Morgan—SHUT UP ALREADY!" he exploded, whipping his pillow at the older man's head. Morgan abruptly woke as the pillow clipped his face, shooting up in bed and grabbing his gun from beneath his pillow.

_BANG BANG BANG! _

Reid screamed and dove for cover as shots were fired. In the plaster wall past his head three smoking bullet holes could be seen. He scrambled up on the bed, staring wide-eyed at the holes, and then swung his head towards Morgan in disbelief. The older man had quickly come to his senses shortly after firing and now held the gun limply in his hand, looking baffled, but most importantly, _furious_. Reid didn't give him a chance to speak, horrified at the escalation between them.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" he shouted.

"_Me_? What the hell is wrong with _you_ man?!" Morgan shouted back. "I thought I was being attacked!"

There were noises in the hallway and panicked voices. Someone banged loudly on their door.

"Hey! Open up in there! You got a gun?" a man hollered.

Reid quickly slipped from bed, eyebrows furrowed. "Great. Good job Morgan."

Morgan turned, grabbed the lamp on the dresser in between then, and swung it at Reid's head. Reid ducked. The lamp slipped from Morgan's hand and smashed onto the ground.

"Are you _nuts?_" Reid exclaimed.

Their door was banged on again.

"I'll call the police!" the same man hollered.

"This is all on you," Morgan grouched, pointing at Reid. He turned and stomped towards the door, pausing to take a deep breath, before opening it to stare down the man on the other side. "Can I help you?" he coolly asked.

The man, red-faced with a protruding gut, stepped away some. "Y-Yeah! We're trying to sleep but all we get is yelling and gunshots!"

Morgan stepped into the hall, Reid silently did the same. They glanced around simultaneously, assessing the situation. Fifteen people were either in the hallway or standing in their doors. Several looked ticked off, others looked terrified.

Oh boy.

Time for damage control.

Morgan raised his hands in a placating manner. "Please calm down," he told everyone in the hall. "We're FBI. There's nothing to worry about."

"We heard gunshots!" the man with the gut shouted again, though he was much further down the hallway than he was before.

Morgan tried not to roll his eyes at this. "There was an incident but it's all taken care of now."

"What kind of incident?" someone asked.

Reid decided to speak up. "Nothing serious," he said in his best reassuring tone. "Just an intruder."

Morgan brought a hand to his head as the people began to panic.

"An intruder?"

"So we _should _call the police!"

"Did you kill him?"

"Are you allowed to do that? Just kill an intruder?"

"Hold on—HOLD ON!" Morgan boomed, effectively silencing them. "My colleague is an idiot," he said, shooting Reid a short glare. "It wasn't a burglar or anything like that. It was just…a, uh, spider."  
"A-A spider?" a petite woman on their left repeated. "You shot your gun at a spider."

Morgan resolutely nodded his head, not wanting them to pick up on his lie. "Yes m'am. It was going to bite me. I had no choice since it was the most poisonous kind of spider. A, uh—black widow."

"Actually," Reid couldn't help but intervene, "The most poisonous spider is the Brazilian Wandering Spider. It's so deadly it can kill a human within minutes; sometimes the toxic is so much that antidotes don't work! It has red-haired fangs and can even cause men to have extremely long and painful erec—"

Morgan pushed his head aside, grimacing. "Jeez, enough man! You're freaking everyone out!"

Sure enough a vast majority of those in the hall looked petrified. Reid flushed in embarrassment and stared at his toes.

"Was that kind of spider really in your room?" a stout woman standing in the doorframe across from them questioned, fear in her eyes.

Morgan really didn't want to lie but… "Yeah," he said. "Luckily we caught it before it could bite us. It moved pretty quickly though."

A gangly man two doors down from the woman skeptically raised his eyebrows. "So you shot and killed it?"

"_No_," Morgan replied, not liking the man's tone. "I shot it off the wall and then smashed a lamp on it. It's dead. It won't harm anyone."

"I don't believe you," the man sneered.

"Who cares?" Morgan uttered.

"Prove it!" the woman from before insisted. "Bring it out here and show us! FBI or not, you can't go around shooting guns for no reason!"

"Alright, alright! Man these guys are persistant," Morgan grumbled. He turned to Reid. "Hey, bring the napkin with the spider so they can see."

Reid looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. "But we don't have—"

"_Reid_."

The younger agent rolled his eyes in annoyance and shuffled back into the room. He lingered by the broken lamp for a second before heading into the bathroom. Meanwhile the suspicious woman said to Morgan:

"I'm getting my trashcan. You can toss the spider in there as proof."

Morgan just looked at her. "I'm in your debt."

His sarcasm couldn't be clearer.

A moment later both Reid and the woman returned to the hallway. The woman held a dented metal trashcan. Reid held a crumpled napkin in his hand. He slowly turned so that everyone, all fifteen occupants in the area, could see what he held.

"The spider," Morgan solemnly intoned.

There were scattered, sarcastic claps as Reid tossed the napkin into the trashcan.

The woman huffed, glaring into the trashcan. She turned on her heel and stalked back into her room. Soon enough the others followed, giving Morgan and Reid wary and annoyed looks.

"Any more racket and I'll have the both of you reported!" one of them threatened.

Morgan and Reid stood out in the now empty hallway for a couple of seconds longer. They exchanged a glance.

"So…" Reid started to say. Morgan abruptly stalked into their room.

"I'm going to bed."

He turned the thermostat heat up and slipped under his sheets, not bothering to say another word. Reid followed his lead. They didn't have a lamp anymore. The room was plunged into a stale silence and light darkness. From his position near the window, Reid could see the blackness of the sky start to lighten. He blearily turned his head away. If this wasn't the _worst_ experience he had in a motel…

He sighed and tried to force his brain to shut down.

They'd be lucky to get a couple hours of sleep at this rate.

* * *

They slept well past the alarm Morgan had set.

When Reid woke it was to bright sunlight streaming through the curtains of their obnoxiously large window. He yawned and groggily rubbed his eyes. It was warm, comfortably warm in the bed. It seemed like it would be a nice day out today… He lazily rolled onto his side, blinking slowly in an attempt to remember where he was and what he was doing in a room that wasn't his own.

Morgan's drooling, conked out face greeted him.

Reid looked at the older man in some confusion. What were they doing here again? God—he was so tired! Hadn't he slept enough?

And just like that he remembered. His eyes snapped wide open. _Oh my God. _He jolted up in bed, tossing his sheets off his legs. He fumbled his way to the other bed, frantically shaking Morgan.

"Morgan…Morgan! Morgan, wake up, man!"

Morgan drooled some more.

Reid roughly shook him again. He spared a glance over his shoulder to the clock on the dresser. 7:00 AM. And it was three hours behind which meant that it was actually….

"Morgan!" he howled, "Seriously wake up now!"

Morgan jerked and flailed, catching Reid on the jaw in the process. "What? What?" he frantically asked, looking around as if they were in danger.

Reid clutching his aching jaw, eyes wide in fear. "It's ten, Morgan!" he exclaimed in a slightly muffled voice. "We're _two hours late!_"

Now Morgan was the one flying out of bed.

In less than ten minutes the pair had gathered their bags, swallowed toothpaste, and splashed water over their faces. In the next two minutes they were out the room door, practically running down the hall to the front counter. Neither had bothered to change from their night clothes.

"Why didn't anyone call us?" Morgan grunted in frustration.

Reid's eyes were impossibly wide as he yanked his phone from the depths of his go-bag. "They did. Forty-nine times."

"Oh jeez…"

They approached the front desk and were surprised to find a tall man in a suit behind the front desk, speaking with the worker at the counter. The tall man turned at their arrival, the pin on left breast clearly reading: MANAGER.

"Ah," the manager said, disapprovingly eyeing them. "I've heard reports about the two of you. The others who checked out were very accurate in their descriptions of you and of the disruptions you caused. What happened in that room? I'll have to charge you for anything you've broken."

"Wait. Where were you last night?" Reid confusedly questioned.

"Home," the manager snorted. "Like I'd stay in a place as creepy as this. So—what did you break?"

Morgan and Reid shared a small glance and then reluctantly confessed the 'minor' damages.

The manager looked horrified. "_What? _What on earth caused you to do that?!"

"Why we did what we did doesn't matter. It's what we did in the end that's important," Reid philosophically said.

The manager stared. "You destroyed a lamp and shot three holes in the wall."

Reid stared back. "But…But we killed a spider. A poisonous one."

"I don't care if you gave _birth _to a poisonous baby."

Morgan and Reid's face twisted in confusion. _What? _

"I expect full reimbursement for all the damage done," the manager continued.

"Ugh, fine," Morgan growled. "Let's just pay them. We're already late as is."

"I'm pretty sure they left without us," Reid muttered, even as he drew his wallet.

The two FBI agents lost 750 dollars that morning. After paying and tossing the key at the manager's head, they exited the motel and climbed into their SUV. The parking lot was near empty now. The ride was completely silent.

It then occurred to Reid that maybe they should listen to the messages left on the phone. As Morgan drove at the pace of a melting snail, Reid checked out his voicemail to see that despite all the calls he only had one. It was JJ. He put the phone on speaker so Morgan could hear.

'_Hey Spence, Morgan. There were some complications with the jet getting here. We don't have to meet in the lobby until twelve today, so if you're getting this message early just sleep in and try to get as much rest as you can. Don't bother rushing.' _

The SUV was dead quiet for a very long time.

* * *

Around 12:00 PM the rest of the team meandered into the downstairs lobby of the Hampton Inn, smiling and looking considerably more refreshed than they had the night before.

Hotch returned the keys and checked them out. He then returned to where Rossi, JJ, and Prentiss waited, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Morgan and Reid aren't here yet?" he asked.

Prentiss quickly scanned the lobby. "Doesn't look like it," she said.

Hotch frowned. "Let's wait outside."

The four trudged outside and were surprised to see a black SUV parked along the curb a few feet down. They walked over, curious as to why the two hadn't come inside. JJ and Hotch peered inside the driver's window while Rossi and Prentiss looked inside the passenger one. Their expressions varied in degrees of shock.

Morgan and Reid were slouched in their seats, completely and utterly asleep on one another. Morgan was drooling in Reid's wildly uncombed hair. It was kind of cute but mostly gross. Why was there so much saliva?

Hotch stopped staring and rapped on the window, ignoring JJ's disapproving glare.

Morgan and Reid snapped to attention, knocking heads with each other. It took them a while to realize where they were, but when they did, their peaceful faces vanished. Reid touched a hand to his eerily sticky hair and blanched.

"Ew! Morgan!"

"What are you shouting about _now, _kid?"

"You monster—you salivated all over my head!"

"_Whose fault is that_?!"

"_Yours!" _

Rossi quirked a brow at them and then peered above the car to meet Hotch's eye. "I'm guessing the motel didn't work."

Hotch sighed.

* * *

A couple of weeks later the team was called on a case in Alaska. Unfortunately there were only four rooms available and seven of them. All of them would have to double up except one person. As soon as they heard the news both Morgan and Reid grew uncomfortable. They didn't want to be rude to the people graciously hosting them but… The motel experience was clear as day in both their minds.

"I'm not sleeping with Reid," Morgan immediately said after their hosts left.

Reid frowned. As if _he _was the problematic one! Morgan was the one who snored like a stupid boat horn!

The short, questioning, and awkward silence that fell over the team was broken by Garcia, who laid a hand on Morgan's and lightly said, "Dibs."

Reid snorted and stood. "Good riddance."

Morgan snorted back. "I should be saying that to you, kid."

"Enough," Hotch intervened before they could start an argument. "Let's all just go to bed."

And despite Garcia claiming rights to sleep with Morgan, the team watched in mild amusement and exasperation as Reid went up the stairs with Morgan swiftly following behind, bickering and shoving at one another the entire way.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry, I use line breaks way too much. **

**Anyhow, I hope some of you laughed haha, or at least enjoyed the story :D**


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